


Ties and Suspenders

by StarlightDragon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dorks in Love, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, Episode: s09e06 Heaven Can't Wait, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 11:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5783704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightDragon/pseuds/StarlightDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Smith is the newly-promoted director of all the Gas-N-Sip stores in Idaho. On a routine check, he meets shy sales associate Steve, who doesn't seem on the surface to be anything special - but for some reason, Dean can't stop thinking about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ties and Suspenders

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this back in September, went to NJ Con, did a couples cosplay of these two, got a bunch of people there excited about it... and then promptly forgot about it. Today I booked my tickets for this year's MinnCon, so it seemed like an appropriate time to go back, edit and post. I've always wanted to see a fic with them together and never have, so I figured I'd fill the void.

**~january**

"Hi, my name's Dean Smith, I'm the new director of operations for the Idaho Gas-N-Sips. I'm just coming round to do some checks; make sure everything's operating as it should be. Is your manager here right now? Nora Clarke, right?"

The first time Dean walks into the Gas-N-Sip just off Carlson Avenue, it's January and he's only just been given his promotion. He's wearing a pink shirt tucked into his black suit pants, paired with a pair of navy blue suspenders and a navy blue tie with thin white lines stitched into it. He likes the look of the combination, but the shirt is new and stiff and a little uncomfortable. That, combined with a long day of driving and of looking around countless identical Gas-N-Sip stores (none of which ever seem to have any mozzarella sticks left) and he's just ready to be done with his last assignment of the day, which is why his voice comes out as bored and robotic as it does.

"She just left for the day. She has to pick up her daughter from daycare around this time. My name's Steve. I'm a sales associate. Can I help you with anything?"

Dean looks up at the man. His eyes widen and his lips part.

Now _that_ is a pleasant surprise.

It's not that Gas-N-Sip employees tend to be unattractive, it's just that blue polyester vests and coffee stained hands aren't a good look on most people, and the workers tend to be frustrated by having to talk to him when they think themselves perfectly capable of running their stores alone. Dean privately agrees with them, but corporate assigned him to perform checks on every store, so he's doing it.

This guy doesn't seem to have any of those problems, though. He's still looking at Dean, waiting patiently, eyes fixed on him like nothing else in the world is important to him.

"Do you, uh, have any mozzarella sticks?" Dean croaks finally.

The guy - Steve - literally beams at Dean like he's genuinely thrilled to have something to help him out with, and he walks over to the hot food cabinet and carefully counts out six mozzarella sticks into a small cardboard container, taking them back over to Dean. Dean takes a bite as Steve is swiping his credit card and Dean knows they're cheap and mass produced and have probably been sitting in the cabinet all day, and he should be sticking to his protein shakes, but _holy shit_ these are somehow so good.

"Thankyou, and have a wonderful day," Steve says once the transaction's complete, and he sounds so earnest about the whole thing, and to top it all off he gives Dean a thumbs up, face still deadly serious.

Dean knows he still has to do his routine checks, but that would be weird now that he's bought food. Plus, if he doesn't do it now, he has a reason to come back... He just needs to coincide it with this guy's working hours.

It takes him a great deal of self control not to log into the company server and look them up.

**~february**

Dean spends the next two weeks driving around Idaho and visiting every single Gas-N-Sip. He never realized quite how many there were until he was given the task of collecting information from all of them. And yet, even after weeks of driving, mapping every single location, he can still never find one when he needs one; when his gas is critically low and he's pretty sure there's no chance he'll make it home without breaking down.

His car is bleeping frantically and he's hitting every red light and he's genuinely terrified that he's going to have to pull over and call somebody for help when finally, finally he sees the familiar sign up ahead. The gas price is ridiculous but it's not like he's really in a place where he can be picky right now, so he drives up to the pump and fills his silver Prius up all the way. After that kind of a scare, he could really use a muffin or something, so he heads inside the store.

Nope, not a muffin. A cigarette is what he's really looking for, although he hasn't had one since college.

He walks up to the counter and stands in line behind a woman buying a lottery ticket, waiting until she moves away.

"I'll have some beef jerky and a packet of menthols."

That's when he looks up, and sees a pair of dazzlingly familiar eyes.

"I remember you," he blurts, caught off guard. "Steve, right?"

Steve points to his badge, nodding, and Dean finds himself cringing inside. That had been a stupid thing to say.

"I, uh, I like your shirt," Dean says, still sounding dumb, when Steve returns with the things he asked for. It _is_ a cute shirt, too - a soft, warm looking striped polo of the sort that Dean likes to wear around the house when he's not going to be seen in public (nothing like the sky blue bow tie and suspenders he's wearing over a dark blue shirt today.)

"Thankyou." Steve holds his gaze for just long enough that Dean's pretty sure Steve remembers him too. And he's pretty sure Steve is seeing more than just what Dean _looks_ like, if that even makes sense. "You have a great day, Dean. And I hope to see you here again soon."

Dean's got a smile on his face all the way back to the office, and it's still there when he leaves for the day, with no amount of routine spreadsheet work able to destroy his good mood.

Dean finishes his report write-ups of the inspections of the Gas-N-Sips, and he doesn't hear anything back about them for a while. In fact, Dean's almost beginning to suspect that it's some kind of hazing ritual for the new guy - make him drive around to every store in the state for no good reason.

**~march**

Until one day, Dean's boss calls him in for a meeting, and he looks angry, which is very concerning. Zachariah's a scary guy at the best of times, but if Dean's done something to genuinely screw up... yeah, he really doesn't want to be on the receiving end of that. But it turns out not to be Dean who Zachariah is angry with. Rather, he's angry with hundreds of people statewide, because Gas-N-Sip sales are falling, and people all over are complaining about bad customer service, poor cleanliness and unstocked shelves.

"Complaints at every single Gas-N-Sip store in the state! Every single one!" Zachariah yells, gesticulating wildly. "No... in fact, there's just one store that remains complaint free."

For some reason Zachariah seems even more angry about this than about the ones that did get complaints. Dean figures the guy just wants to be angry, so he makes up his mind to be the calm and rational one, even though he's nervous. "Which store is it? I can head down there. Talk to the staff; find out what they're doing right. Maybe come up with a list of principles that the other managers could implement in their own stores."

Zachariah frowns, and for a moment Dean thinks he's going to yell at him, but he doesn't.

"See, this is why I hired you, Dean. You're a real go-getter, carving your own way like this. I admire that." He smiles at Dean, and it's scarier than the anger. "Have it on my desk by Friday morning. I'd give you the weekend, but I don't think you'll need it."

It's Wednesday now and Dean wants to complain but he'd like to be where Zachariah is in a few years and he figures the best way to achieve that is just to keep his head down and do all his work, so he agrees, and a few minutes later he's speeding down the highway, blasting NPR, on his way to the most successful Gas-N-Sip the state has ever seen.

It's not that far away, but even so, he somehow doesn't make the link until he's pulling up outside.

It's the place where Steve works.

Dean straightens his slate grey tie and fixes his black and white striped suspenders and stares at himself for way too long in the rearview mirror making sure every single hair is gelled down before he gets out of his car and walks inside the store, cursing the slight breeze that follows him.

There store's basically empty. Steve and his manager Nora are both there and it occurs to Dean that as Nora is the one in charge, he should probably be talking to her.

And he means to, he swears he does, but his mind is overruled by his feet, which take him over to the soda fountain where Steve is standing, and his mouth, which says of its own accord, "Steve. It's Dean Smith, from corporate. I don't know if you remember me, but I was wondering if we could talk in the back?"

Steve looks concerned. "Am I in some kind of trouble?"

"No! No trouble at all. Opposite of trouble," he tries to reassure him, because the last thing Dean wanted to do was scare the guy.

Steve gives him a small smile of relief, and Dean counts that as a victory as he follows him into the back.

Dean has to work really late that night finishing up the list of ideas for increasing public interest in the Gas-N-Sips. He badly wants to give Steve some kind of credit for helping him out so much, but when he searches the company database, he can't find any records of him. There are several Steves, Stevens and Stephens employed across the state, but none of then match the branch or age or appearance of the one Dean spent time with today.

It's weird, for sure, but as he drifts off to sleep that night he's focusing less on a mis-entered name in the Gas-N-Sip software and more on the pretty pink shapes that Steve's mouth makes when he talks.

**~april**

Spring is approaching and it's casual Friday and Dean decides it's time to ditch the suit jacket and show off one of his button downs. This one is white with black polka dots, so he pairs it with a simple plain black tie and suspenders, the tie in a slightly looser knot than usual. It's the first really warm morning of the year and Dean's early for work and he thinks he might save himself the pain of break room coffee and pick something up on the way instead.

It's not even on the way, and he swears he means to go to the one that's just down the road, but before he knows it he's pulling into the parking lot of Steve's Gas-N-Sip.

He pours himself a mocha and adds an extra Splenda because if he's going to cheat on his diet he might as well do it properly, and he takes it up to the counter, one hand holding the coffee, the other hand crossing his fingers behind his back, hoping that it's Steve.

It is.

"You know, I'd have thought you'd be sick of Gas-N-Sips by now." Steve glances around himself and leans close to say in an exaggerated whisper. "I'm not supposed to say this, but since nobody's listening - _our coffee isn't that good_."

Dean giggles, and he can't remember the last time he giggled. "Yeah. Well. Brand loyalty and all that."

"I admire that," Steve nods, and he sounds very sincere as he rings up the purchase. "Would you like the employee discount?"

"It's coffee. It's two dollars. We don't have an employee discount," Dean snorts.

Steve taps the side of his nose with a finger. "Our little secret."

Dean wonders if Steve is like this with everyone, if he gives out a lot of 'employee discounts'. Somehow, he doesn't think he does.

Dean wonders where Nora is.

This is only the fourth time Dean has met Steve and for some reason everything else in the room disappears when he's around. Dean will find himself thinking about Steve in the elevator at work, in the kitchen making breakfast, at night brushing his teeth, and he'll find himself pink-cheeked and short of breath.

He doesn't know what to do with that.

He's back in his car before he realizes he hadn't even bothered to give Steve an excuse for that visit.

**~may**

There's just one problem.

Dean considers himself to be pretty good, socially. Sure, it's been a while since he's been out of the house except for work, but that's because his promotion brought with it an increased workload that he didn't expect. But he's always good at making small talk with employees in the elevator, and he never struggles with conversation. And back when he _was_ putting himself out there, he never had a problem getting a date - whether it was a guy or a girl, he has a few lines which, in his experience, are pretty much guaranteed to work.

And then there's Steve. And for some reason, there's something about this guy that stops Dean's tongue from working and makes him stand off to the side mumbling awkwardly about how he doesn't want to bother him and he'll let him get back to work now.

Then, two minutes later he's cursing himself because he had his chance and he fucked it up yet again.

Now that he's been there for coffee once, he's addicted, it's like a routine, and he can't stop himself from going back. Every time he finds a new outfit, for example, deciding to match a pale gray shirt with green suspenders and an emerald green tie with silver patterns stitched in, and he's actually beginning to grow worried about the size of his tie collection now. The more he goes, the more he wants to go, because maybe Steve is expecting him, maybe there's a _tiny_ chance that he looks forward to their few lines of banter just as much as Dean does.

Steve's Gas-N-Sip (and Dean's well aware that Steve doesn't actually own the store, and he knows that he's wrong to refer to it as Steve's in his head, but it just feels _off_ to think of it any other way) isn't technically on the route between Dean's home and work, but it isn't a ridiculous detour either, so he feels like he can justify stopping off there once every few days on his way to or from work. He tells himself it's because he wants a coffee, but the truth is he has a fancy espresso maker in his kitchen at home that makes far better coffee than any Gas-N-Sip.

But it's not like he really tastes the coffee while his mind is caught up in the deep blue of Steve's eyes.

**~june**

One day in the summer, Dean wears a white short sleeved shirt (purple suspenders, purple tie with white spots) because it's five million degrees outside. His arms are tanned because he went to his sister's beach house over the weekend and completely by coincidence, this also happens to be one of the days he decides to stop off at the Gas-N-Sip.

He switches things up by going for an iced coffee instead of his standard hot drink, and he feels light on his feet as he approaches the counter, more confident than he usually does, and he thinks that  _maybe, finally_ , today is the day he's going to say something. He's not sure what. Maybe just something as simple as asking for Steve's number.

"Dean." Steve's greeting is as warm and friendly as ever, despite the mildness of the tone.

"Steve! How's it going, man?" Dean cringes at the loudness of his own voice.

"It's going well. The slushy machine broke this morning while I was setting up, but I think I managed to fix it."

Dean chuckles. "You know that's not your job, right? You can just stick a sign on it and wait for maintenance to deal with it?"

Steve just shrugs, as if to say he doesn't mind at all. Then, he counts out a few quarters for Dean's change, which Dean promptly drops into the tip jar.

Dean stays standing there, hovering, for a few moments longer.

"Is there anything else, Dean?" Steve inquires. Dean notices not for the first time that Cas seems to say his name an awful lot.

Dean takes a deep breath, gearing himself up. "Just one thing. I was wondering if, maybe, and I know this might seem like an odd request, but I, uh-"

He's cut off by a loud crash from the back of the store. He and Steve turn in sync to see the slushy machine overflowing, a fountain of bright blue liquid spilling out onto the floor, over the hands of a distraught young boy trying to use it.

Steve runs round the side of the counter with an earnest, determined look on his face and dashes over to help the boy.

Dean takes it as a sign, and decides not to stick around to finish his own sentence.

**~july**

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Dean nods, intrigued. This whole time; every stop he's made at the Gas-n-Sip, as much as he might _feel_ like he knows Steve, the guy has never really offered up any personal information beyond the fact that he keeps bees in his spare time, prefers peanut butter and jelly over any other kind of sandwich, and is a big fan of all the new emoticons that have been added to the iPhone. And Dean memorizes every single one of these facts (it's just how his memory works, he tells himself) but he doesn't know any of the solid details, like where Steve lives or whether he's single.

"My name's not really Steve. It's... It's Castiel, or Cas for short. But that tends to get a lot of attention, and for once I just wanted to blend in or something, I guess." He glances down at the counter, not looking at Dean.

"You could never blend in," Dean laughs affectionately.

Cas' face falls, and Dean rushes to correct himself. "I don't mean that in a bad way. I just mean that there's something about you that makes people remember you. Makes them want to come back."

It certainly explains why Dean couldn't find Steve in the Gas-N-Sip employee registry, and his first instinct is to run back to the office and look him up with this new information. But he decides not to. Maybe it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. But he finds himself wanting to get to know Steve - _Cas_ \- the old fashioned way, just the two of them talking, learning snippets about each other through casual conversation. No cheats.

"I really don't think I'm the reason people come to this store," Cas says, looking down at the counter and blushing faintly, and Dean can't speak for anyone else but he knows that Cas is definitely the reason _he_ comes to the store; not that he's about to tell him that.

But on the way to work, as he adjusts the pink and white checked tie that he's paired with pink suspenders and a mid blue shirt, he starts to think that maybe he can speak for everyone else.

Because this branch has _still_ had no complaints from customers, and it's fast approaching a company-wide record for customer service, and Dean still hasn't seen Nora for months, and the only conclusion he can draw from this is that Steve is the one causing all this.

**~august**

It's an exciting and whimsical day that Dean chooses to drop a capital H Hint to Cas by wearing rainbow suspenders and a matching bow tie.

He doesn't know why he does it, exactly. It's a bit more 'out there' than any of the neat outfits he would normally wear to work, and although he doesn't necessarily try to hide his sexuality, he also doesn't shout about it. It just kind of _is_. But Cas told him something personal last month, and he supposes that in his own way, he wants to repay that favor. 

Cas doesn't comment on the outfit. Worse still, there's a long line of customers, so the two of them don't really get the chance to talk at all beyond the two of them asking how each other's day is going. And, of course, the soft smile that Cas gives Dean. It's a smile of familiarity, Dean assumes, because it's different to the one he gives any of the other customers in line. 

Dean hesitates by the door a moment. For some reason he finds it fascinating just to watch Cas work; to see the methodical way he greets each customer, takes their order, their money, counts their change, waves them goodbye. Like an assembly line where he's in charge of everything. He seems to have got it down to a science.

He doesn't want to seem creepy, so he turns to leave.

"Dean!"

Dean turns around with his hand on the door, and he sees that Cas has broken away from the line of customers, and he's chasing after him, and for a star-bright moment that makes Dean's heart flutter he thinks that maybe Cas has caught onto everything he's been trying to say for months.

"You left your coffee," Cas smiles apologetically, holding out the cup of Irish Cream coffee that Dean has just bought. He didn't even notice that he wasn't holding it. These past few weeks he's been drinking less coffee anyway, and he's been throwing it out a lot of days.

"So I did." Dean takes the cup, and he wants to accidentally brush his fingers against Cas', but he chickens out. "Thanks. Sorry. Lots on my mind."

Cas gives a dutiful nod. "Any time, Dean."

**~september**

Dean's caught off guard the one day Cas isn't in the Gas-N-Sip.

He walks around the store three times, trying to act nonchalant, checking for Cas in all the usual places - behind the counter, stocking the chip shelves, heating up taquitos, but he doesn't seem to be there. So Dean leans against a counter pretending to be doing something on his phone but actually watching the doors to the back room and the bathroom, expecting Cas to appear out of one of them at any moment, hair a mess from where he's run his hands through it too many times while he works.

Finally, the line for the checkout dies down and the manager makes her way over to Dean.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asks.

Dean shuffles his feet awkwardly. "Uh, I'm looking for Steve. He does still work here, right?" He's hit with the horrifying possibility that maybe Cas switched jobs without telling him.

Nora nods. "Yes, he took the day off today. He's sick. First time he's ever done that; I wasn't expecting it." She doesn't seem happy about it.

"Okay," Dean says, disappointed. He fiddles with his deep purple silk tie that he's wearing over a lilac shirt with his black suspenders - it's a brand new outfit combination and it kind of feels like it's going to waste now. "Thanks."

Nora gives him a calculating look. "I've seen you in here a few times. Steve always seems happy to see you."

Dean blushes despite himself. "Yeah, I... I come here for him, mostly." He's not sure why he admits it to a near-stranger.

And now Nora's smiling, and she's warming up to him as she leans in conspiratorially to share a secret piece of information with him--

Then she frowns, and a look of recognition seems to pass over her face. "Wait a minute. You're from corporate, aren't you? What are you, cutting jobs here? Pretending to be interested in one of my employees just so that you can get insider information?"

Dean doesn't know how to convince her she's wrong, so he opts for escaping the situation instead.

"She takes advantage of you, you know," he finds himself saying to Cas a few days later when they're alone. "Always making you cover for her when she gets in late and leaves early. And she makes you do all of the hard work, too. Why's that fair on you, huh?"

"There isn't a why. That's just how things are," Cas says, and the way he says it is so matter of fact that Dean can tell Cas doesn't even mind, which somehow makes it even shittier.

"I guess what I'm saying is that you're the kind of guy who could save the world if you wanted to. But instead you choose to work here."

He leaves Cas to think on that.

**~october**

The display of pumpkins outside the Gas-N-Sip is the only thing that reminds Dean that Halloween is coming up soon, and he's grateful for the reminder. There's a lot of kids in his neighborhood and he definitely needs to stock up on candy before the big day rolls around. Maybe he'll dress up himself to greet them. He's always kind of liked the idea of being a vampire.

But instead, he puts on a standard dark green shirt, green and white striped tie, white suspenders.

"You're dressed up today," he says to Cas. Cas isn't Halloween-dressed up, there are no costumes or scary masks, but he _is_ wearing a suit, and Dean realizes he's never seen him out of the regulation blue vest.

Cas nods, his face even more serious than usual. "Yes. I have an interview for a job at corporate today."

"That's a shame," Dean says on instinct, and then realizes how that could be taken.. "I mean, obviously I want you to get promoted. But you're so great with the customers, and... you'll be missed here, is what I'm saying."

"I'll miss them too. I like getting to interact with people. But I could use the extra money. I'm struggling to pay my rent."

There isn't really anything Dean can say to that - the crazy possibility of asking Cas to move in with him crosses his mind. His apartment is huge and there's plenty of room for one more. But he barely knows the guy, so he settles for simply telling him, "I'll be sure to put in a good word for you."

Cas looks relieved. "Thanks."

"Your, uh, your tie's a little crooked." Dean wants to help him out as much as possible; give him the best possible shot at the job, and he tells himself that's the only reason he steps forward; leans over the counter and reaches for the other man's shirt. "Let me get that."

Dean fiddles with the knot on Cas' tie until he looks completely presentable, and then stands back to admire the full effect of the smart dark suit, white shirt and blue tie that beautifully complements his eyes. He ignores the brief rush of longing he feels and instead tips Cas a finger gun and says, "You'll do great in the interview."

**~november**

On a rainy day in November, Dean bundles himself up in a trench coat after he leaves work and makes the drive over to the Gas-N-Sip. It's the sort of day where it only makes sense to go straight home, strip off his suit and put on three comfortable old holiday sweaters before curling up with a mug of hot chocolate and a whole season of Project Runway, but he's had a bad day and there's a strange ache in his chest when he realizes it's been a couple of weeks since he's seen Cas. Since he stayed late at work that night to finish up preparations for that weekend's work Christmas party - which he's dreading - it's later than usual when he arrives at the store, and Cas is actually getting his things together to leave too.

Cas is dressed in nothing but a thin, pale blue shirt and jeans underneath his vest, and he's going to get absolutely soaked walking to his car. Dean tells him as much, and Cas replies by saying that he doesn't _have_ a car. As if that makes it any better.

"How the hell are you planning on getting home, then?" Dean asks.

"I'll walk," Cas says, as though it's obvious.

"Not a chance. Not in this weather. I don't care how close it is, I don't care if you literally live in the building next door - you are not walking anywhere dressed like that."

Dean feels fiercely protective of this guy, the man who has the best sales record of any Gas-N-Sip employee in the state for as long as they've been keeping records but who at the same time seems to be clueless whenever it comes to doing anything outside of the store, anything involving common sense.

"Dean, I walk home every night. It's really not a problem."

Dean doesn't give Cas any room for argument as he grabs his arm (an action which sends tingles shooting through his own hand) and starts pulling him towards the door. "Not now that I know about it. I'm giving you a ride. If your place is walking distance, then it's definitely not too much trouble for me to drive you."

He's right, and the drive is way too short for his liking. Rain pounds on the windscreen and Cas watches it like he's never seen the sight before and for the first time in his life Dean finds himself _hoping_ for red lights so that they'll prolong the journey; so that they'll give him a chance to look at Cas. He asks Cas about work that day and they swap stories of ridiculous customers and and grumpy coworkers and the whole thing feels so domestic, and Dean wants to be the one who drives Castiel home every night; who makes sure he arrives safe back at his apartment and waits in the car while Cas makes his way up to the door, turning back to face Dean and making shooing motions with his hand though secretly appreciating what Dean's doing for him.

But it's a completely impractical idea. His work schedule is unpredictable and he barely knows Cas at all. Hell, he's probably dreamed about the man more times than they've actually interacted.

"Cas, before you go..." Dean says when he's parked as close to Cas' apartment complex as he can physically get. When he starts that sentence, he doesn't even know how it ends yet.

"Yes?"

Before he can overthink the movement, Dean shrugs out of his own trench coat, folds it up and hands it over to Castiel, leaving himself in just a cream colored shirt with navy suspenders and a navy and red plaid tie. "I want you to have this. You have to walk home every day and it's getting colder and it just seems like you could use it more than I can."

He expects Cas to protest, but he doesn't. He takes the coat out of Dean's arms and has to perform an awkward little dance in the front seat to get it on.

"What do you think?"

Dean takes the excuse to drink in the sight of Cas for a few seconds. The coat looks right on Cas somehow in a way that it never did on Dean, even though it's slightly too big for Cas.

"Yeah. Yeah, it suits you."

It's an understatement.

On the way home, Dean gets lost on a few back roads and as he lets his GPS navigate him out of the situation, he wonders idly to himself what Castiel is doing for Christmas.

**~december**

On December 25, Dean wakes early to make the drive to his parents' house for Christmas dinner. They've been traveling a lot these past few months and he hasn't seen much of them, so it's wonderful to catch up with the whole extended family, even if they do make fun of him for wearing his work clothes on a holiday (blue and white striped shirt, red tie, red suspenders.) They drink and they talk and they play games, and before long the living room is strewn with wrapping paper and playing cards, but the party breaks up early, because a blizzard is starting and there's not room for everyone to stay over and the people who live nearby want to drive back before the snow covers the roads too heavily.

Dean drives.

The Gas-N-Sip is only five minutes out of the way.

Dean wonders...

He thinks maybe he'll just swing by the parking lot, and if the place is in darkness, he'll leave again and think no more of it. Some of them are open today and some are not, and it didn't occur to him to check specifically which category this one fell into.

It's open.

The lights are on, but the parking lot is deserted. Which makes sense, because the snow is starting to fall more heavily now, and most likely nobody is going to go out on the roads unless they absolutely have to. Dean himself knows that it would make more sense to get home safe as quickly as he can before he gets blocked in here, which he thinks might be a legitimate risk - but he's never spent a Christmas alone in his life, and he doesn't think anybody else should have to either.

He shields himself against the cold - he's such a hypocrite, he hasn't even bought a new coat yet - and runs across the parking lot into the store.

Castiel is alone, and the store is decorated for Christmas; several strings of colored lights strung up on the ceiling and a small, sparkly Christmas tree adorning the countertop. Cas himself is wearing a Santa hat and it looks _adorable_ , the white bobble flopping down into his face.

Cas looks up at the sudden noise from the doorway, a look of surprise on his face. Dean doesn't know if Cas didn't expect to see anyone today, or if he just didn't expect to see _him_. 

"Hello, Dean," is all Cas says.

Dean's mouth is suddenly dry, and his voice cracks as he says, "Hey, Cas. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Dean. I hope you're enjoying the holiday," Cas replies, fixing Dean with his most piercing gaze yet and refusing to look away.

Dean stands up straighter, wanting to look his best for Cas. It suddenly occurs to him that he's still wearing a glittery paper hat.

"You're staring," he comments, after a few beats of silence.

"You... you match your tie to your suspenders. I notice it every time. I'm not sure why. I like it, though."

Dean blushes and dodges the compliment. He does it instinctively. Doesn't even realize he's doing it, and nobody's ever commented on it before. "Yeah. It stops the outfit from getting too cluttered. Don't want too many colors at once, you know."

"Of course," Cas nods, pretending to be knowledgeable about the finer points of putting together an outfit, when in reality Dean knows that Cas owns five shirts and two pairs of jeans that he rotates through beneath his standard issue Gas-N-Sip vest. Cas' effort makes him smile.

"Well, I should be going now," Dean says quietly, though in his mind he's begging Cas to give him a reason to stay. "Got to work early in the morning."

"Wait," Cas says quickly.

Dean hasn't even turned around to leave the store, but he says "Yes?" anyway.

"I-" Cas' cheeks flame red, and then all of a sudden he runs around the side of the counter so that he can stand next to Dean, stand on his tiptoes and press a kiss to the corner of Dean's mouth.

It only lasts a second, and it isn't even long enough for Dean to process what's happening. When Cas pulls away and steps back, Dean's face flushes to match Cas' own and he involuntarily lifts two fingers to the place Castiel's lips just touched, as if he'll be able to feel the mark they left.

"Sorry," Cas apologizes, turning away to re-stack candy bars that don't need to be re-stacked. "I don't know what I was thinking."

Dean doesn't know what the hell he's apologizing for. Being too perfect, probably.

"Say, Cas," he begins, because it's Christmas, because he's already spent a whole year on this guy, because he's never going to get a better opportunity than this. "I never congratulated you on your promotion. How would you like to close this place up because of the weather and come back to mine for dinner?"

Dean's never seen anyone smile as brightly as Cas does when he says, "Yes, I would like that. Very much."

They find other uses for Dean's ties and suspenders that night.

**Author's Note:**

> so this fic was only ~50% an excuse to come up with a ton of cute outfits for dean
> 
> if you liked them then drop by my tumblr **casandsip**


End file.
